


Demolition Lovers

by orphan_account, RydenWayWeekes (orphan_account)



Category: My Chemical Romance, frerard - Fandom
Genre: AU, Active, Alicia Way - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Anger, Angst, Awkward Gerard, Awkward Gerard Way, Betrayal, Bottom Gerard, Bottom Gerard Way, Cute, Dom Frank Iero, Fluff, Frerard, Gang, Gay, Homophobia, Homosexual, Hotel, M/M, MCR, Mikey Way - Freeform, Motel, New Jersey, Novel, Ray Toro - Freeform, Rich boy, Runaway, Sad, Sadness, Sex, Smut, Sub Gerard Way, Top Frank, Top Frank Iero, bob bryar - Freeform, cry - Freeform, dom frank, fagbutt_skumfuk, gang member, lindsey way - Freeform, sub gerard, teenage frank, teenage frank iero, teenage gerard, teenage gerard way, youwillknowmyname
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1410823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/RydenWayWeekes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero is in a gang, he's not the leader, not the first mate, he's the runt of the pack. He wants out. But one night Frank is surprised to hear that he has been selected to take part in one of the gang's latest crimes. The burgalry of Way Manor. </p><p>Gerard Way is the heir to a massive fortune, houses, cars, antiques, all that chap.  But he finds the rich-kid life boring, he has no friends, nobody his own age to talk to and parents who ridicule him at every turn. He's thinking of running away, but Gerard has no plan,  no street smarts and no one to runaway with. </p><p>I think it's time Gerard and Frank met. </p><p>NEW TRAILER: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F4GNfPiJUKU&list=UU8NnLwBhw1YmafNFdnwW9wQ</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing Left To Do [i]

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is the beginning of a (roughly) 53 chaptered fanfic. I'm going to warn you guys now I have a rather...unpredictable updating schedule and though I try to stick to deadlines it often doesn't work that way. However it is often because I'm perfecting it the make the chapters as good as I think possible.
> 
> Also I'm from England however because the fic is set in America and Gerard and Frank are American I do try to use American vocabulary. Feel free to point out terminology mistakes, grammar mistakes, ETC. 
> 
> Finally, I'm looking for one more beta reader for this fic so if you're interested let me know.
> 
> (Also fellow users momiji_neyuki and RydenWayWeekes will be appearing as a co-author on this fic because she is one of my betas, I'm am still primarily writing the fic alone.)

"Gerard? Gerard?!" Mr. Scythe exclaimed. I jumped as he smacked his ruler down on my desk so hard it left a thin indent along the edge. The only mark on an otherwise pristine school desk. But far more impressive, was the fact that the force of the hit made such a loud sound it managed to snap me out of my daydream. That was a near impossible thing to do, so no matter how much I hated my tutor I had to give him credit for that. No matter how good the daydream was.  
  
As for the content of my daydream it was like most others I had. I went to a public high school, one with multiple teachers, freshmen, juniors, sophomores and, like me, seniors. I actually had friends, we would hang out, maybe go to the mall, go to parties together. Maybe I'd even have a secret crush.  
  
As a pose to being cooped up inside, in the same room, every weekday, with the same tutor. A man so old he most likely knew Julius Ceasur personally. Maybe they went out for drinks together, had girls feed them grapes, all that Roman crap.  
  
Actually, let me take that back, a man that knew Julius Ceaser personally would have a better knowledge of history; well, at least a better knowledge of history then myself - a seventeen year old boy.  
  
I, of course, already knew all that was worth knowing about history. I guess having no social life in any shape or form has it's advantages after all. I knew all of the presidents, kings, queens, myths, milestones. But still my parents insisted on a tutor for maths and English, among other subjects. Mr Scythe here was apparently the best in the state; best in the state my ass.  
  
"Yes sir?" I stare at him innocently, finally replying but still gazing out of one of the windows on the left of the makeshift class room. I was glad that my father, or whoever it was, had decided on this room to work as the headquarters for my academic torture.  
  
It was one of the larger rooms in the house; a few closets containing various school supplies lined the right side of the wall, the mahogany drawers already gathering a thin layer of dust within barely a day of being cleaned. Two closets down there was a break in the line that revealed the door to the room. I wanted nothing more than to escape out of it, with the excpetion of going to a public school of course.  
  
Along the right side of the room there was a row of long rectangular windows that arched at the top, the crimson drapes pulled open as a source of light for the room. And at the far end of the room was a black chalk board (how modern) and beside it was a teacher's desk, organized to perfection, not a pencil or sheet of paper a centmeter out of place. Finally, just infront of the chalkboard was an old fashioned school desk and chair, and at it, sat me, trying to escape into yet another daydream.  
  
"What did I just say?" I finally tear my gaze away from one of the windows to see a more than slightly frustrated Mr. Scythe. He must've asked me more than once; I hold back a smirk. I was debating whether or not to be a smart ass about my answer, but my internal debate seemed to be mistaken for not knowing the answer.  
  
Fuck it, douchery must be returned by equal, if not more douchery; that is the law of the universe.  
  
Mental Note: Never say or think the word douchery again.  
  
"You said my name, sir," I reply curtly, finding it increasingly hard to keep a straight face.  
  
"What?" He asks, completely dumbfounded. His black, square glasses are beginning to slide down his thick, squished up nose. The lenses on them are so thick they make his eyes look as big as saucers on his squarish, block like face.  
  
Come to think of it, he looks slightly like the old guy from Up. Except the old guy from Up didn't have a comb over in a pathetic attempt to hide his bald patch (About ninety percent of the surface area of his head).  
  
Picture the old guy from Up, but balder and taller. Plus he wore a moth eaten maroon sweater, grey slacks and black loafers.  
  
"You said my name," I repeated. "Twice," I added, holding up two fingers to demonstrate my point.  
  
"Don't get smart with me, boy," He snapped as his face started to scrunch up, now resembling a toad. Scythe always called me that, boy I was practically eighteen, in six months. "Before that," He corrected himself. I reply without missing a beat.  
  
"You were saying how Abraham Lincoln's victory in the presidential election of 1860 triggered South Carolina's declaration of secession for the Union in December of that year as well as the secession of six more states by February, 1861. Also, a pre-war peace-conference was held in Washington, however it failed to resolve the crisis at hand," I let out a long breath and sat back in my seat, now letting my smirk show. "I do listen, sir," I added simply.  
  
"Yes- well," Scythe stammers. The dumbfounded expression on his face coupled with the repeated opening and closing of his mouth reminded me of a goldfish. A wrinkly, old, saucer-eyed, goldfish. Glub, glub.  
Wow; even being in the same room as Scythe lowered my IQ.  
"Well, that's it for today Gerard," Scythe began as he composed himself. "Tomorrow we shall begin with mathematics,"  
"Oh joy," I replied sarcasticly as I gathered up my belongings and quickly rushed to the door.  
"Oh and, Gerard?" Scythe called. I turned around to face him and saw a smug look plastered onto his wrinkly ace.  
"Yes sir?"  
"I shall be notifying your father of this," He told me as he pointed his ruler in my direction.  
"Of what sir?" I asked. "Do you mean how you asked me a question and I answered it correctly?"  
"I-" Scythe began, the smirk wiped clean off of his face, but I cut him off.  
"Or perhaps you mean how you damaged a pure oak, Victorian antique?" I raised an eyebrow as I gestured towards my school desk. Of course the desk wasn't a Victorian antique; I don't even think it was pure oak. but Mr. Scythe here didn't know that.  
"I-I-I-I-," He stammered.  
"Goodbye Mr. Scythe, I would say enjoy your day, but I really do wish the opposite upon you," I said as I turned back around to face the door and left my classroom without another word. Finally free of another day of academic torture.


	2. Nothing Left To Do [i]

"You can still back out you know," Mikey whispered in the small boy's ear. Now do not misunderstand me. Mikey was not talking to a literal small boy that was 'not even in double digits yet.' But more accurately, a boy, that was small, or short. Just below average height, as the much more then below average height Frank put it.  
  
"We both know that I can't do that," The small boy, Frank replied, as he pulled off his white t-shirt, displaying more of the inky designs that covered his arms and torso. Most would not be able to find a way to get tattoos until they were of legal age- just over a year for Frank- but being in a city gang had it's advantages.  
  
And disadvantages; mostly disadvantages, such as the situation Frank was in now.  
  
"Come Frankie, hurry it up, I've got money riding on this," Shark, the leader of the gang, shouted from the circle of gang members that had formed around Frank and another fellow member, Blue. Frank glanced over at Shark and studied him for a moment.  
His honey coloured hair fringed his face perfectly, part of it was swept over to one side, making some of it hang over his eyes. His emerald green eyes were a startling shade against his pale complexion.His nose was almost aquiline, but it suited him; it went with his sturdy, almost square jaw which was covered in a light stubble.  
  
Most would say he's handsome, but not Frank Iero, to Frank Iero he was just a dick that controlled his life through threats and force.  
  
Anyway, back to the point at hand. Frank had had a disagreement, if you will; and there was only one way to settle that in Shark's gang, one that Frank would not have minded, if his opponent was not the infamous Blue.  
  
"Scared, midget?" Blue sneered from the other side of the make-shift fighting ring. His buddies were gathered around him, slapping his back and giving pep talks, just like professional trainers.  
  
"You wish," And then there was Frank. All he had was the tall and lanky Mikey, and he was telling Frank to back out.  
In Frank's opinion Blue was just the stupid muscle of the gang and a dick, Mikey however was a different story.  
  
He was quite normally, practically a mute, but kind when he did speak. To Frank at least. His hair was brown at the sides and the dyed blonde around the top. He always had it out of his face, swooped back over his head. His eyes were the colour of melted chocolate, spaced in exactly the right place on either side of his nose. His mouth was small compared to most to Frank.  
  
Mikey was handsome, Frank thought, but there were so many reasons why Frank would never act on his feelings for another man. The main two were Shark and Blue.  
  
"Thirty seconds, assholes," One gang member that Frank recognized as Brock. He was a man that resembled a rhino in more ways than one, Frank thought. For one there was looks, he was way past burly on the muscle scale, not to mention the he had the IQ of a rhino, if not a smaller one.  
  
"You're a fucking idiot, Iero," Mikey told him. At that Frank smirked and turned to face the one and only person that could be at least considered a friend in the hell that was his life.  
  
"I kn-" But Frank did not have time to reply before he was knocked to the floor. No, not knocked, ppummelledinto the floor would be a more accurate way to describe Blue tackled Frank.  
  
"Last chance, midget," Blue spat, his eyes gleaming as he straddled the smaller Frank and pinned him to the floor.  
  
"You think I'm going to fall for that?" Frank asked, matching Blue's smirk. "I'm not a fucking retard, unlike some people," With that Frank spat in Blue's smiling face, right on his forehead.  
  
Blue seemed to be momentarily stunned by Frank's act of bravery, or what most would consider, stupidity. Frank cold only watch as his spit slowly dribbled down Blue's face, nearly getting in his eye.  
  
However Frank would never found out if it actually did go into Blue's eye, because at that point he felt Blue's fist smash into his nose.  
  
Cheers erupted from around the pair as Frank saw dots appear around the edge of his vision. Again he felt the same pain, this time more intense, as the same fist connected with his face; this time it was accompanied by a roar of fury from Blue.


	3. Like Scarecrows [i]

"How is your meatloaf, Gerard?" I looked across the dining table to see Lindsey's mom, Jenine smiling at me.

"Wonderful thank you," I replied politely. It was disgusting, I felt like I was chewing cardboard, old decomposing cardboard at that. I cut up another piece and forced myself to chew it enough times and then swallow.

"I'm so glad you like it," She beamed at me sweetly. I felt Lindsey knock my leg under the table and snicker. Her face was looking down at her plate, her long hair cloaking her face to hide the smile that I knew was there.

"Lindsey," Her dad barked, his chubby face flushed as his chins quivered. "Manners,"  
"Sorry, father," She said, quickly composing herself and forcing another forkful of the carboard loaf into her mouth. I held back a smile as she looked at me out of the corner of her eyes.  
"Now, Donald, how is work?" Lindsey's dad. I could never remeber his name, I think it begins with an 'A'.

"Not so good,Andrew," My own father replied as a somber looked passed over his face as he stared down at his clean plate. I had no idea how he could eat it but I did know he found just as disgusting as I did. "The company's profit has fallen by over fifty percent in the last month, and I've never seen the numbers this low,"

"Excuse me, but could Gerard and I please be excused?" Lindsey asked, bravely in my opinion. I didn't dare interrupt my father. Then again he could not exactly scold another person's child, especially not in front of the parent.

"And why would you like to be excused my dear?" Her dad asked suspiciously.  
"Oh, I just have a history project due in on Monday and since Gerard is so good at history I was hoping he could help me improve it," Lindsey was a great liar. One of the fucking best in my opinion. Or her parents were unbelievably gullible. Most likely a mixture of the two.  
"Oh let the children have some freedom Andrew," Lindsey's mom beamed at us both sweetly again.

"Very well, you are excused," He said, waving us away with a chubby hand.  
"Merci mon pere," Lindsey replied innocently in a perfect French accent. She took my hand as I stood up and walked me out of the dining room, giving me a quick peck on the cheek.  
I pretended to blush just as both of our mothers gave little 'aww's as we left the room and began to climb the stairs.

When we got into her room she let go of my hand and flopped down on her bed, giving a long sigh. "And now I have AIDS," I mocked, wiping my cheek with the back of hand where she kissed it.

"I thought you already had them, gays get AIDS really easy apparently, from swapping gender interest so much," She laughed, picking up her Fender Bass from the corner of the room.  
"Um, one I'm a virgin," I told her. "And two, that's bi-sexuals, for example, you," I added, pointing at her as she stuck her tongue out at me, playing a few notes that were inaudible from the lack of an amp.  
"Oh shut up faggot," She mocked playfully, still smiling and continuing to play more notes.  
Apparently her parents had wanted her to play cello but Lindsey being Lindsey and her parents being complete dumbasses she eventually got her way and her bass lessons three times a week.  
"How's your song going by the way? Got anything new?" She asked, placing her bass carefully down on the bed.  
"'Ish," I replied, coming to sit next to her on the bed.  
"Well what are you waiting for, sing ya' fag," I giggled at that and cleared my throat before beginning the song.

_"Hand in mine, into your icy blues_   
_And then I'd say to you we could take to the highway_   
_With this trunk of ammunition too_   
_I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets_

_I'm trying, I'm trying_   
_To let you know just how much you mean to me_   
_And after all the things we put each other through and_

_I would drive on to the end with you_   
_A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full_   
_And I feel like there's nothing left to do_   
_But prove myself to you and we'll keep it running_

_But this time, I mean it_   
_I'll let you know just how much you mean to me_   
_As snow falls on desert sky_   
_Until the end of everything,"_

_Lindsey begins to clap as I finish_ and I blush, looking down at the threads on her bed. "That's all I've got so far," I murmur.

"Fuck, Gee," She exclaimed. "That was fucking amazing, all we need now," She paused, picking up her bass again and plugging it into the amp. "Is an accompaniment," She smiled at me and began to play the start of a tune.

"But don't we need an actual guitar to make a real melody?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We'll improvise,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it Lindsey everyone! Hahaha I hope you liked it guys. Tell me what you think.


	4. Like Scarecrows [ii]

"You're an idiot, Frank," Mikey ranted, pacing backwards and forwards in the tattoo shop. "Why, why do I even try to help you?" He turned his head to look at Frank, led shirtless across a table and wincing in pain.

This was the most painful yet, Frank thought. Except for maybe his scorpion but that had been over quickly. He hissed again as the tattoo artist, Lou, continued to tattoo the jack-o-lantern on Frank's back.

"Maybe," Frank began, but paused again and bit his lip to stop from exclaiming in pain. "Because I'm just so darn adorable and young and naive?" He smiled at Mikey, despite the pain.  
Mikey just snorted and continued to ramble on about how stupid his friend was. "If Blue finds out you know what he's going to do right?"

"Yeah, I know," Frank hissed. "But he isn't, right, Lou?"

Lou the tattoo artist looked extremely intimidating at first site. He had was shaved down to a buzz and his face was more metal then flesh. Both of his ears had been stretched to at least thirty millimeters, one of his eyebrows had three piercings and he had one ring and snake bites on his nose and lips. Not to mention the tattoo sleeves- some of which Lou had designed and applied himself- which trailed up his T-shirt and onto his torso and mostly likely even under his tatty old denim jeans.

"Hey, you payed extra, dude. 'Ain't nobody gonna' hear anythin' from me," He replied, going over a particularly bone-y part of Frank's spine. "And hey if you keep movin' I can't finish this tat so shut the fuck up and stop bein' a baby," He added.

"Fuck you," Frank replied, but refraining from making any noises of pain this time.  
After a few more minutes the whirring of the tattoo needle came to a stop as Lou removed his disposable gloves. "Okay, that's it for today, come back within the next week and I'll finish it, yeah, man?"

"Sure thing, how long have I got to stay on here for?" Frank asked, staying in the same position on the table.

"At least a half hour, dude," At this Mikey pulled up a school from the corner of the tattoo shop and sat down, giving a deep sigh.

"You have got to get one soon, Mikey," Frank smirked as Mikey cringed at the thought.  
"Hell no, dude. I don't wanna be some wrinkly old guy with saggy skin covered in ink. What would I tell my grand kids?"

"You really believe you're gonna live to have grand kids " Frank asked seriously, all tones of joking gone from his voice.  
"I don't believe, I know. There's this real nice girl, Alicia, she works as a waitress at one of the cafes near here," Mikey murmured the last bit, looking down at the floor embarrassed.  
"You like her?" Frank smiled, whereas Mikey didn't answer. "Taking that as a yes. Have you asked her out?" Again Mikey didn't answer, he did mumble something but Frank couldn't hear what it was.

"No," He repeated, louder this time. Frank chuckled but then let out a hiss as the movement hurt his back.

"Of course you haven't, but why not? Wait, I know the answer to that one too, the dick wits," Mikey nodded at Frank's guess.

Well it wasn't really a guess, it was always the dick wits. They were the main muscle of the gang, mostly because they were actually strong but partly because they were to stupid to be anything else.

If they found out that Mikey liked a girl they would make his life a living hell, and this girl called Alicia's too. It had happened once before, to any other member, eventually it got so bad that the girl he liked moved out of town.

He of course made the mistake of getting angry at 'the muscle' and nobody had seen him since. Probably got tossed into a river in a bag with some rocks most likely.  
"I understand, Mikes. Be careful yeah? The last ting you need is for some prick to screw this up for you,"

"Screw what up? There is nothing to screw up," Mikey replied, looking downcast.  
"Yet," Frank replied bluntly, giving Mikey his signature smirk and wink.


	5. All We Are Is Bullets [i]

"I'm so glad you and young Lindsey are hitting it off,"Mom practically squealed like a little school girl as Jonathan, the chauffeur opened the front door to the house. As I crossed the threshold of the house I tried to contain my annoyance at both my mother and father.

I'd given up on coming out to them a long time ago, let them figure it out themselves. Was letting them walk in on me fucking a guy too much?

"So, how good are you and Lindsey getting on?" My father asked, smiling at me knowingly.  
"Um," I didn't really know how to answer that.

"Oh hush, Donald, let them go at their own pace," Mom was still beaming as father removed her coat and hung it up on the ornate coat rack by the door.

"Of course, it's just the sooner dear Lindsey and Gerard here become official the sooner I can count on Andrew's support at the latest stockholder meeting," He looks smug, continuing into the main living room.

I suddenly rush after her him, confused and surprised. When I enter the room he is over by the liquor cabinet, pouring a glass of scotch. "What?" I exclaim. He turns to face me, taking a gulp of his drink.

"Oh come now, Gerard. You didn't really think that all of those dinners at that house were just between friends did you? It's business " He states simply, going over to one of the couches and sitting down.

"Wait a minute. The only reason you want me and Lindsey to be together is for the company?" I ask, rage suddenly boiling up inside me. My father lets out a chuckle and shakes his head as if he is dealing with a young toddler.

"Of course, I thought you knew. So, how are you two getting along?" He raises an eyebrow, taking another sip of his drink whilst smirking at me.

"We're only friends," I tell him, clenching my fists down at my sides. I hear my mom walk into the room and see she sits down next to my father.

"Well come on boy," He exclaims. "Use some of that Way charm," I let out a deep breath, trying to control my anger.

"We can't be more than friends," I say, gritting my teeth. Both my parents now look confused.

"Gerard dear, whatever do you mean?" Mom asks, staring wide-eyed and confused. I turn to her, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I'm..." I mumble, trying to force the words out of my mouth.

"Yes?" She asks. I try to form the words but every fiber in my being stops me, I can't talk, my mouth is dry, my palms sweating. My tongue feels like a lead weight in my mouth.

"Spit it out boy," Father demands, now looking a little angry and flustered. I take a deep breath.

"I'm gay," I manage to say. I open my eyes to see my parents in the biggest state of shock I've seen in my lives. Both of their mouths are agape, my father is gripping his scotch glass so tightly his knuckles are bone white. He glasses have slide down to the end of his nose but he does not push them back up; Mom is holding one of my father's arms, almost as tightly as he grips his scotch glass.

"Go to your room," She says calmly.

"What?" I exclaim, confused. "What have I done?"

"Go to your room," She repeats, louder and more sternly this time.

"But I-," I begin.

"Listen to your mother," My father now speaks. He is visibly shaking with rage, his face a beetroot color.

"I-" I begin again.

"Go to your room, you will think about what you have just said. If when you come down you do not apologize you will be severely punished. I will not have you seen as a disgrace to this family," My father shouts, standing suddenly, towering over me.

I finally let my rage and resentment out with two words.

"Fuck. You," I say, quietly, looking my father directly in the eyes.

"What did you just say?" Father bellowed, coming even closer than before.  
"I said, fuck you!" I bellowed back.

For moment I couldn't believe what I had just said. I wasn't even sure I had said it out loud. That is until I felt a stinging pain in my right cheek.

I cradled my cheek, now stinging furiously; I glanced at my mother, to see her stood as well hand still raised from where she slapped me.

I felt tears brimming my eyes, not from the pain, but mostly from shock. The shock that my mother, my own birth mother, had lashed out at me.

Without another word I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me.  
I stormed upstairs, making sure to put as much weight on each foot with each step but still trying to go as quickly as possible.

As I reached the whole I made a beeline for my bedroom door and swung it open, slamming it shut before dropping onto my bed.

Finally the tears began to flow. Over seventeen years worth of pain, resentment and loneliness poured onto my pillow in the form of small beads of salty water.


	6. All We Are Is Bullets [ii]

"Come on, what harm could it do?" Frank asked innocently, beaming at Mikey from across the dorm. They were sitting on their own beds at the, almost headquarters, of the gang. Not everyone slept here of course, some even had families unlike Mikey and Frank whom Shark had 'taken in' as he liked to put it.

"Oh I don't know. She could end up getting stabbed, shot, scammed, the list goes on and on," Mikey replied sarcastically, attempting to end the conversation.

"Come on, Mikes, is it because you're scared she'll shoot you down," At this Mikey glared at his friend, staring daggers. Frank took a moment to think about what he said and them let out a little giggle. "No pun intended," He added slyly.

"Fuck you, midget," Frank could tell Mikey was getting angry now; he'd shown both of his tells in one sentence.

1\. Saying fuck or any variation of the word fuck.

2\. Insulting Frank's height.

Frank pondered what to say for a moment, still wanting Mikey to ask out Alicia but not wanting to make him so angry he wouldn't listen. "Okay look, Mikes, I'm sorry-" Mikey cut him off with a snort but Frank ignored it and continued. "It's just I can really see that you like this girl, Alice-"  
"Alicia," Mikey cut him off again, sounding less angry.

"See, you even know her name," Frank gave a small smile which Mikey returned reluctantly. "And she sounds really cool-"

"I only told you her name and you even got that wrong,"

"Okay, man, stop cutting me off. Where was I? Oh yeah, she sounds really cool and I really think you two would hit it off. Take a chance, live a little," Frank added with finality.

"Coming from the guy who-" Mikey began but Frank waved him away.

"Yeah it's coming from the guy who whatever, I don't care so long as you ask that girl out, 'kay?" Frank raised and eyebrow, lying back on his bunk; he didn't need to look at Mikey to know he nodded.

Frank stared at the ceiling as a sinful though crossed his mind. Was he jealous of Alicia? A girl he didn't know, he wasn't even sure if he liked Mikey. Sure he definitely liked guys, and girls, but liking Mikey wold be like liking his brother.

Yuck as fuck.

No, he was not jealous of the mysterious Alicia, he was happy for Mikey and curious as to who this girl was. And he also jumped as someone burst into his and Mikey's dorm.

"Frank," He recognized Shark's commanding voice and shot up into a sitting position on his bed. "'Ya lazy ass prick, I've got a job for ya," Shark told him.

"Sure thing, Shark," Frank replied, curious and scared. Frank never had a job on his own. He barely ever had a job full stop.

"Well 'ya know that posh house, 'bout 20 minutes walk from here. That's out next target, we need someone to scope it out," This still didn't make any sense, why didn't Shark send Blue or Brock? "We need someone small," Shark added at Frank's confused look.

"Just me?" Frank asked, pointing to himself.

"Just you. Now get your ass in gear before I change my mind,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know this chapter was short *hides* but in the next one Frank and Gerard kinda meet. Kinda....(if you cant two parts as one chapter)
> 
> P.S. I need a beta for this story so if your interested message me or comment. (It would involve finding out the whole plot of Demolition Lovers.)


	7. Into Your Icy Blues [i]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in this next chapter, no self harm occurs but it is implied.

I woke to find I had cried my self to sleep, still wearing the clothes I had worn to the dinner party at Lindsey's. I numbly walked over to my wardrobe whilst undoing my tie and pulled out a pair of blue sweats and a grey t-shirt.  
I began to undo my shirt buttons, going for top to bottom and trying to ignore the dull pain I still felt on my cheek.  
"I'm probably still in shock about it all," I said to no one as I chucked my shirt to the floor, not bothering to put it in the laundry basket. My voice sounded hollow and devoid of any emotion.  
"And it's my fault," I continued rambling as I pulled on the t-shirt and un did my belt buckle. "I'm the one that's gay," I felt my eyes wander to the black box on my desk. "I deserved to be slapped, otherwise mom wouldn't have done it," I had now removed my pants and boxers, discarding them to the floor along with my shirt and tie.  
My gaze moved from the black box down to my wrist, littered in slim, ruler straight scars. "Actually mom probably didn't punish me enough," I decided as I finished pulling on the sweats, beginning to walk over to the box on my desk. "I'm disgusting," My hand reached out to it, about to lift off the lid when suddenly it snapped back.  
"Nope. You always do this," I told myself, beginning a self pep talk. "You cannot keep casting the blame onto yourself. You can't choose your sexuality, it is their fault for being so judgemental. Remember what Lindsey said when you feel like doing this to yourself again, she said go somewhere to take your mind off it," I looked out of the glass doors leading to my balcony and looked down at the pond in the back yard.  
The pond was good, but I'd have to sneak down, and it was going to be cold; it was mid October. I pulled on my dressing gown and walked over to my bedroom door, easing it open.  
I peared out, looking left and right, checking the coast was clear before making my way over to the stairs. I made my way down, wincing as one of them creaked. It sounded so loud I was surprised nobody reacted to it, then again the only reason it sounded so loud was probably because of the quiet compared.  
"Gerard?" I heard a voice call my name with a thick Spanish accent as I reached the bottom of the stairs. "What are you doing up?" It was the house keeper, I couldn't remember her name but I knew it began with a C. I was really bad with names.  
She stood in the hallway, wearing her coat, no doubt getting ready to leave for home. "Um, nothing, just getting a glass of water," I smiled innocently, shuffling my feet.  
"You lie," She stated. "I know you lie because you shuffle feet when your lie," She pointed down to my bare feet accusingly. "I should get Mr. and Mrs. Way,"  
"No, no, there's no need," I pleaded, but she began to walk towards me, trying to get up the stairs. "Please don't tell them,” I pleaded. Then an idea struck me.  
Mom recently mentioned that some of the silverware missing. And the housekeeper wasn't exactly very well paid. It’s not hard to put two and two together. “If you go and get my parents I’ll tell them where the silverware has been disappearing to,” I felt slightly guilty about blackmailing her. Only slightly.  
“Y-you know?” Her eyes now flashed with worry. I nodded.  
“If you just leave and pretend you never saw me I won’t say a thing,”  
"Promise?" She asked.  
"I promise, now please, go home," I told her. She turned away and picked up her bag from a nearby table and walked over to the hall. I didn't move until I heard the front door open and close and made my way through to the kitchen into the back yard.  
It was a lot colder outside than I had expected. The chilly night air nipped at me as pulled my dressing gown tighter around me. I walked along he gravel path, biting my lip as I ignored the gravel on the path digging into my feet. I cursed under my breath at my choice of footwear- or rather lack of.  
I sat down on marble bench next to the pond, stifling a yelp as I felt the coldness of the stone through my gown and pajamas. I soon got used to it - or my body heat had warmed up the stone slightly – and began just staring into the pond.  
You know when you stare at something and your eyes are focused on it but you’re not really looking at it. That’s what I was doing.  
I began to find myself getting slightly sleepy and I didn't quite feel like going back inside, so I reated my head on the cool marble of the bench and somehow managed to find myself slipping into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so that's all the chapters I have stocked up for now and this is where my unpredictable updating patterns come into play. I'll try to stick to a rough deadline of maybe an update every week and a half or if the update is short every week. I also have two beta readers now, one of which is on AO3 however one more would be great!


	8. Into Your Icy Blues [ii]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I finally updated! Don't forget to tell me what you think, also have you seen the trailer in the Fanfic Summary? Check it out!

Frank nervously paced along the side walk, looking up at the breathtaking view that was Way Manor from under the brim of his hood. It may not have been as grand as the manor houses you see in the movies, like Wayne Manor or anything but it was still something to behold.

He was trying to figure out a way to get into the place without detection; it wasn't going so well. "For fuck's sake," Frank muttered to himself, as he walked back down the street- out of view from anyone that might have been looking out of the many windows. "How fuck am I meant to get into this place?" He tried to think of something, anything, that would get him inside but nothing came to mind; Frank had been on very few jobs and so had virtually no knowledge about this sort of thing. He often found himself questioning why Shark had 'taken him in'.

"Stupid little Way boy, think's he so smart," Frank quickly ran into a nearby bush at the sound of a voice nearby, crouching amongst the leaves and dirt. He peered out, careful not to be seen but enough to get a good view of who was talking. It was a middle-aged woman and she had just come from the front yard of Way Manor, Frank noticed. She was rather plump and had short but thick curly black hair. Her face resembled that of a pug, her features making it look like she was a cartoon character that had ran into a brick wall. "Maybe if his stupid parents pay more I wouldn't have to take," As she came closer Frank saw she was dressed in a grey and white house keepers uniform, just visible under a thick brown coat.

The woman spoke with a thick Spanish accent, obviously angry about something. " _Viejo bastardo y flaco pequeña perra ramita. Y eso lo sabe todo hijo. ¡Vete al infierno!_ "Frank stifled a giggle at the woman's rant in her mother tongue, understanding some of it himself. He could pick out 'old bastard', 'little something bitch' and 'go to hell'. 

Frank waited for the housekeeper to pass around the corner, still hearing her rant faintly in the distance. Again Frank laughed, trying to mask the sound with his mouth before getting out from the shrubbery and brushing himself off.  
Concluding that there was virtually no chance of him being able to get from the front, Frank began to walk around to the back of the house. Frank pulled his hoodie tighter around him and shivered at the cold as he came round to the back of the house, protected by a tall dark ochre fence; it had to be just under 6ft. No one would be out in the back yard right now, it was the middle of the night and mid-October in New Jersey.

Frank sighed, cursing his height, also cursing that there was no one with him to give him a boost or vice verse. He looked cautiously around at his surroundings, looking for something -anything- that would help him get over the fence. He noticed a bike, lying on one of the front yards belonging to a house opposite across the street. The house wasn't much compared to the Manor but it definitely looked preferable to Shark's den.

Once again, Frank glanced around making sure no one was walking down the side walk and no lights were on in the houses. Satisfied he quickly sprinted across the road and grabbed the bike, wheeling it back over to the other side of the road and leaning it against the fence. The bike looked relatively new, there was no rust and it was a shiny scarlet colour. "I'll return it as soon as I've finished," Frank muttered to himself as he tested how strong the back was.  
It didn't wobble and stayed put, giving Frank more confidence as he held onto the handle bars and stood on top of the saddle. Slowly he let go of the handle bars and stood up to his full height. He couldn't quite see over the fence but he could grab the top of the fence and pull himself up. Frank reached up, grasping the top of the fence and shiver as he felt cold breeze on his back as his hoodie lifted up with it. After taking a deep breath he began to pull himself up over the fence, using his feet to help him climb whilst trying not to think about the drop that awaited him.

Frank kicked the fence a little too hard and heard the bike crash to the side walk beneath him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," He cursed over and over, trying desperately to keep a hold in the fence. He heard a dog barking at the commotion, no doubt waking it's owners. "Fuck, shit, shit, fuck," Frank grunted as he pulled himself over the fence with desperate determination.

The next thing he knew he was falling, falling through the cold October air and into the dark body of water below...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! _***Momiji_Neyuki***_ here. *waves* I just wanted to clear the air on some confusion. I am **NOT** writing this story in any form. I have been graciously allowed to beta it and I hope that I did a good enough job. ^-^
> 
> Thank you though for reading it. I really like the direction this story is moving in and the fact that it takes time to update proves how amazing it really is. ^-^


	9. Meet Your Eyes [i]

I woke with a start, sitting bolt upright as I heard a tremendous splash before feeling like someone had just dropped my body into a bucket of ice water. I stifled a scream, and instead just gasped; still wary of waking my parents. I gritted my teeth and clenching my jaw straight after to avoid any audible noise at all escaping my lips. My eyes searched for the source of the splash and I saw a boy-he looked to be maybe fifteen-thrashing about in the water.

I froze in confusion and fear at the sight. I composed myself, brushed aside any thoughts as to why this young boy seemed to have just climbed my backyard fence in the middle of the night and hoped he wasn’t some adolescent axe murderer or junkie on the run from the police. "Hey!" I whispered harshly, half listening for sirens in the distance. "You're going to wake everyone up do you want to get caught, dipshit?" The boy stopped thrashing around and swam over to the edge of the pond, eyes widening in fear as he laid eyes on me. "Hey don't worry," I reassured him "I'm not going to go tell on. Come here," I crouched next to the water and offered my hand to him. He paused for a few moments before reluctantly taking hold of my wrist.

I noticed his hand was covered in tattoos, so much for him being fifteen. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him up out of the water. He was on his hands and knees, spitting out the dirty pond water and pulling pond life from his hair. I pushed my now soaking hair out of my face to get a proper look at him.

His hair was black as pitch, in comparison his skin seemed pale in the glow of the moon, I as unable to see the colour of his eyes; his head was facing he ground with water dripping of the tip of his nose. He wore a dark hoodie that was zipped up all the way and a pair of jeans- I wasn't able to tell if they really were black or if the pond water just made them look that way.

I offered my hand to him again, and this time he looked up at me. I could now see his eyes were a dark brown, although unsure if they looked so dark because of the lack of lighting outside. Now that I could see his face I realised just how attractive he was. His face was small, like his nose and his eyes seemed like an open book- the kind of eyes that don’t even attempt to hide emotion. He would’ve been just a cute and not hot if it wasn’t for his defined jaw line and barely visible tattoos on his neck- not to mention the act that his lip was pierced with a silver ring through it.

He took my hand and pulled himself up, eyeing me with suspicion. "Why are you in my backyard?" I asked, matching his look of suspicion.

His eyes widened in fear and he began to speak. "I, I um," Without a word he was off like a shot, taking me by surprise as he sprinted away. I knew he was running for the shed, most likely planning to climb on top of it to escape, and chased after him. 

Although the boy was the smaller of the two of us he was significantly weighed down by his soaked denim jeans; I caught up to him with ease, tackling him to the floor and getting on top of him. He thrashed about, trying to punch me but I held his arms down on the grass. "Who are you? Come on; if I was going to tell on you the police would be looking for you by now. I'm not going to tell I swear," I tried to offer desperately. He was having non of it and continued to thrash about.

"Get off me," He grunted, as he continued his escape attempts with little success.

"What's your name?" I persisted, holding his wrists tighter.

"Frank, now fuck off!" Frank snarled. I was silent for a few moments and let him tire himself out. Eventually he did and relaxed slightly beneath me. "Please let me go." his demands had turned into pleading, the anger in his eyes had been replaced with desperation. "If I don't get back soon I'm dead meat, kid," Frank- despite his small size- was obviously older than me, I judged by his tattoos.

“I’m not a kid,” I insisted, not loosening my grip. “My name is Gerard,” I informed him.

“Fine, Gerard whatever. Come on dude please I’m begging you now. You don’t know how much shit I’m going to be in if I don’t get back soon,” Frank continued to beg.

He really needed to get back soon, but a little voice in my mind was telling me not to let him. I got angry at myself for craving company so badly I was willing to hold a guy who’d fallen into my pond hostage. I tried to convince myself it was his mystery that had caused me to chase after him, my craving to know anything and everything about anyone and everyone. But I knew really I was just the lonely little rich kid that wanted a friend.

Suddenly I heard voices calling and both Frank and I turned our head to see a shadow in front of the patio doors- which were now illuminated in light.

“Gerard?” I heard my father call. The shadow was his, stood in the doorway I his pyjamas. No doubt he’d heard the splash and the commotion that follow and had come to inspect the disturbance.

I quickly let go of Frank’s wrists in panic but was still on top of him. That is until he used my own weight against me and rolled us over with him now on top of me. I thought I heard him mutter something. It sounded like “Nice meeting you, Gerard,” before something collided with my face; something hard that caused a moment of pain before I was out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So DL won the poll this week- I'll be adding a new poll for next weeks updates shortly. However it won't include DL because then I could end up just updating this fanfic for the next 5 weeks.  
> I made sure the update was over 1k words as (I think at least that before I dissappeared for a while my updates were getting shorter; which is often the case when I get distracted by other fanfics or 'external forces' AKA real life.  
> Anyway, dont forget to tell me waht you guys think of the this looonnnnnggg awaited update in the comments and even if DL isn't included you should still vote for a fanfic to be updated in the poll for next week's updates.
> 
> Vote in the fic notes [below]


	10. Announcement

Hey guys!

I've been getting a lot of inboxes from you guys asking if this fanfic is still being updated and I have some good and bad news.

The good news is that the fic will be continuing, however I'm rewriting which is why I've been quiet. I'm also trying to write longer chapters- which is going well!

The bad news is I'll be republishing this is a Kylux fanfiction (Kylo Ren and General Hux from Star Wars) as I've drifted away from this fandom and pairing.

Of course you can always read the Kylux version for the story itself rather than the characters but as soon as the Kylux version is published I'll be deleting this fic shortly after.


End file.
